The seed of growth in every adversity

When I was a little boy, I used to dream of being reborn outside the hardship of the refugee camp in Gaza, in some other time and place where there were no soldiers, no military occupation, no concentration camps and no daily grind, where my father did not have to fight for our survival and my mother did not have to toil.

When I grew older and revisited my childhood fantasies, I came to a quite different conclusion: if I had to, I would do it all over again. I would not alter my past, however trying, in any way. I would embrace every moment, relive every tear and every loss, and cherish every triumph, however small.

When we are young, they often fail to tell us that we should not fear pain and dread hardship; that nothing can be as rewarding to the growth of one’s identity, sense of purpose in life and the liberation of the human spirit than the struggle against injustice.

True, one should never internalise servitude or wear victimhood as if a badge; for, the mere act of resisting poverty, war and injustice of any kind is the first and most essential criterion to prepare one for a more meaningful existence and a better life.

I say this because I understand what many young Muslims must be going through.

My generation of refugee camp dwellers experienced this in the most violent manifestation one can ever imagine.

These are difficult and challenging years for most of humanity, but all the more so for young Muslims.

Between the racism of American and European politicians and parties, the anti-Muslim sentiment sweeping much of the world, propagated by selfish individuals with sinister agendas, playing on people fears and ignorance, and the violence and counterviolence meted out by groups that refer to themselves as “Muslims”, the young find themselves trapped, confined in a prison of stereotypes, media hate speech and violence; targeted, labelled and undeservedly feared.

Most of the young Muslims were born into or grew up in this social and political confinement, and remember no particular time in their past when life was relatively normal, when they were not the convenient scapegoat to much of what has gone wrong in the world.

In fact, wittingly or otherwise, their characters were shaped by this prejudiced reality where they subsist between bouts of anger at their mistreatment and desperate attempts at defending themselves, fending for their families, and standing up for their community, for their culture and for their religion.

Most importantly, they continue to struggle, on a daily basis, to develop a sense of belonging, citizenship in societies where they often find themselves rejected and excluded.

Their “assimilation” is demanded, yet they are pushed away whenever they draw nearer. It is seemingly an impossible task, I know.

And, it seems that no matter what they do, they are yet to make a dent in the unfair misrepresentation of who they are and the noble values for which their religion stands.

Racism seems to be growing, and all the arrows of hatred persistently point at Islam, despite many young Muslims’ passionate attempts to convince them otherwise.

They hardly understand why Islam is, indeed, part of the discussion in the first place. Islam never invited the US to go to war in the Middle East, to tamper with Muslim civilisations and to torment fellow Muslims in other parts of the globe.

Islam was never consulted when Guantanamo was erected to serve as a gulag outside the norms of human rights and international law.

Islam is hardly a topic of discussion as warring parties with entirely self-serving political agendas are fighting over the future of Syria, Iraq, Libya, Yemen or Afghanistan. 

Islam was not the problem when Palestine was overrun by Zionist militias, with the help of the British and, later, of the Americans, turning the Holy Land into a battlefield for most of the last century. The repercussions of that act have changed the region’s fate from relative peace to a repugnant and perpetual war and conflict.

The same logic can be applied to everything else that went awry.

Islam did not invent colonialism and imperialism, but inspired Asians, Africans and Arabs to fight this crushing evil. Islam did not usher in the age of mass slavery, although millions of American and European slaves were Muslim.

Young Muslims try to tell the world all of this, and insist that the likes of vicious groups like Daesh are not a product of Islam, but a by-product of violence, greed and foreign interventions. But they do not listen, countering with selective verses from the Holy Book that were meant for specific historical contexts and circumstances.

Young Muslims even share such verses from the Koran with all their social media followers: “… if anyone killed a person, it would be as if he killed the whole of mankind; and if anyone saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of the whole of mankind…” (Chapter 5; Verse 32), hoping to elicit some understanding of the sanctity of human life according to their religion, but a fundamental change in attitude is yet to come.

So they despair; at least some do.

Some of those who live in Western countries cease to share with others the fact that they are Muslim, avoiding any discussion that may result in their being ostracised by increasingly intolerant societies.

Some of those who live in Muslim-majority countries, sadly, counter hate with hate of their own. Either way, they teeter between hate and self-hate, fear and self-pity, imposed apathy, rage and self-loathing.

With time, a sense of belonging has been impossible to achieve and, like me when I was younger, perhaps they wonder what it would have been like if they lived in some other time, in some other place.

But, amid all of this, it is vital that we remember that the burdens of life can offer the best lessons in personal and collective growth.

They must understand that there is yet to exist a group of people that was spared the collective trials of history, that did not suffer persecution, racism, seemingly perpetual war, ethnic cleansing and all the evils that Muslims are contending with right now, from Syria to Palestine to Donald Trump’s America.

This does not make it “okay”, but it is an important reminder that their hardship is not unique among nations. It just so happens that this could be the time for them to learn some of life’s most valuable lessons.

To surmount this hardship, young Muslims must first be decidedly clear on who they are. They must take pride in their values, in their identity. They must never cease to fight hate with love, to reach out, to educate, to belong.

Because if they do not, racism wins and they lose this unparallelled opportunity to grow individually and collectively.

Sometimes I pity those who are born into privilege: although they have access to money and material opportunities, they can rarely appreciate the kind of experiences that only want and suffering can offer.

Nothing comes close to wisdom born out of pain.

And if young Muslims ever weaken, they should try to remember: God “does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear” (Chapter 2; Verse 286).

The writer, www.ramzybaroud.net, has been writing about the Middle East for over 20 years. He is an internationally syndicated columnist, a media consultant, author of several books and the founder of PalestineChronicle.com. His books include “Searching Jenin”, “The Second Palestinian Intifada” and “My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza’s Untold Story”. He contributed this article to The Jordan Times.